


Talent in Privacy

by werepope (quiteparadise)



Series: 2014 Advent Calendar for a Filthy-Minded Athiest [11]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Industry bullshit, M/M, Twitter happens, celebrity, closeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 01:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiteparadise/pseuds/werepope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam is a singer.  Zayn is an actor.  Sometimes their professional lives collide.  Their personal ones don't collide nearly as much as they'd like.</p><p>AU: Who am I to Blow Against the Wind?</p><p> </p><p>Advent calendar challenge: Christmas songs</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talent in Privacy

Zayn wakes up to two text messages and three missed phone calls.

A picture from Kacela of the Hussar portrait finally framed and hanging on the wall in the living room. He has to zoom in to make out the details – the rough, heavy-handed brushwork. He barely looks like himself in it. Or the painting barely looks like him. One of the two. It looks good.

He sends back the thumbs up emoji.

The other text is from Louis: _Get in!_ and a link he doesn't bother reading, which takes him to a tweet of a picture of himself. He pulls the phone up to his face and squints. A picture of himself and Liam from night, with the caption of "HEY BRO CAN YOU FEEL MY BONER AHAA NO HOMO". It's been retweeted a few thousand times since last night.

Zayn doesn't have to check his missed calls to know who they're from.

He hazards a quick Google search, just to see how far it's gotten. Pop Sugar and Just Jared and – the Huffington Post. _Fuck_.

It honestly wasn't as bad as it looks. The photo makes it seem much more intimate than it had been. In the picture it's almost sordid: Liam's big hands on his hips, Zayn's slight forward lean under the pressure of Liam's chest. It hadn't felt like that at all. It hadn't felt damning.

Liam was performing at a concert with a dozen other artists. A holiday tradition that Zayn's not sure of the history of, but the lineup had been impressive. Liam was just doing one song. A duet of "All I Want for Christmas is You" with Marina and the Diamonds, because it was for charity and the whole thing was very light-hearted, family friendly. It was broadcast live all over the UK.

Zayn took his mum, as was proper, and they posed together for photographers on the red carpet, but she went ahead of him to avoid having to stand around while he gave his sound byte interview. He couldn't find her after, in the bottleneck outside the doors of the concert hall, but Liam found him.

He put his hands on Zayn's hips and swayed into his back. "Hello, gorgeous."

His voice was low enough for just Zayn to hear, although there wasn't much point. Away from the paps and the microphones, there wasn't nearly as much to hide. Zayn's closet was all but glass. Liam had never made any kind of secret of his bisexuality. If there was anyone in that bullpen of industry professionals who didn't know that Zayn and Liam were an item, it was only because they didn't care to.

Zayn touched Liam's wrist, the back of his hand. Liam dropped his chin on Zayn's shoulder and smiled.

They didn't realize that they were visible in the crowd to the line of fans behind barriers. They didn't know that someone with a phone had been standing at just the right angle, looking in just the right direction at just the right moment to catch them full body.

It really hadn't felt nearly as bad as it looks plastered on Twitter.

Zayn swears low and tired.

The screen of his phone switches to an incoming call from his PR rep and he swears again, just for the hell of it. On the night stand, Liam's phone begins to ring as well, rattling loudly against the edge of the lamp.

Liam comes in from the kitchen holding two mugs of coffee and wearing joggers so low and loose Zayn can practically see dick. Liam swaps one of the coffees for Zayn's phone, which he tosses toward the foot of the bed.

"Later," he says. He smiles his fond, sweet smile and Zayn sighs.

"It's damage control."

Liam shrugs. "They can wait. We haven't done anything damaging yet this morning."

Zayn doesn't get to argue that, because Liam sets his mug down on the night stand beside his phone, dinging with a missed call notification, and then pushes his joggers off. Some of Zayn's anxiety gets blown straight out of his brain.

"Yeah, okay," he says, and Liam forces him onto his back as he climbs up onto the mattress. "If you insist."


End file.
